Gas before bed

Today was a great day. Especially considering the week we’ve had. 

Two therapy sessions. Joint. Our first of a few. I feel like I have whiplash. 

Monday fight

Tuesday therapy - good. Hard but good

Wednesday - an entire day of texting, knowing full well that texting does no good. Threaten to break up, uncollar, and then apologize. 

Thursday - therapy, we had a chance to reconnect and it was great to have service night. And amazing sex. 

Friday - hard but talking and conversations were fine. Some laughs and conversations.

Saturday - today

Amazing wake up sex. A day of fellowship. Bonding with the kids. And a wonderful evening. We get home, we have laughs and drinks. The kids are asleep and we start watching a new show. Some how you get on the topic of cumming on my face. This of course goes to who has done it. And when. And why. The questions aren’t so bad. But your arrogance and lack of empathy for my recollection of an event leaves me stumped. 

To be gas lit, then dismissed is fucking hard. I don’t need to prove myself to you. I don’t need to justify my actions. Or my history or my past. 

I need to stop answering these questions. They do no good. 

What pisses me off the most is that something is brought up and picked apart, but here I am wide awake wondering if I did something wrong. When you are sound asleep in a matter of minutes after questioning my actions. 

Apparently it seems that we have more bad days then good. 

I’m sorry you don’t like me tracking these things, but it’s going to happen. I want to know the truth. I want to see it. 

So, until then, I have no choice but to believe your truth, and listen to you snore.

AJV